


Whoever Made our Backstories was F*cked Up

by Chains_and_Pasta



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Abusive Parents, Ben is a child y'all!!!, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Language of Flowers, Platonic Relationships, Platonic!!!! - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 09:12:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17805215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chains_and_Pasta/pseuds/Chains_and_Pasta
Summary: Ben confronts Jeff about his past.





	Whoever Made our Backstories was F*cked Up

Ben sat at his desk, hunched over, staring uselessly at the computer screen in front of him. He sighed and leaned back, flipping through the stack of papers laying by the printer. The papers were news articles and blurry photographs, with some words circled and highlighted with pen.

Someone knocked on the door, and Ben jumped, glitching slightly, and rushed to hurl the stack of paper into a desk drawer. The bedroom door opened as Ben slammed the drawer shut, wincing at the noise. He spun around in his chair to face the person who had come in.

“You can't just knock and come in without me telling you to first,” he said.

Masky shrugged. “Ok. Just checking on you. What's in the drawer?”

“None of your business!” Ben snapped back, quicker than he should have. His ears burned red with embarrassment and frustration. Masky seemed to smile slightly under his mask.

“ok.” He said. “But you should really take a break. You've been in here for hours. Why don't you go eat something?” He suggested.

“...I don't need to eat.” Ben said surly, “I'm a ghost.”

Masky paused, before shrugging. “Ok.” He said, and shut the door on the way out. Ben leaned back in his chair again, glaring at the computer screen. The blue light glowed back harshly in defiance. He slammed it shut and stood up. He was tired of research, it was time to get things done.

Jeff sat on his bed, throwing a baseball into the air, bored out of his damn mind. up, and down. up, and down, he thought to himself, as he tossed it. Someone knocked at the door, surprising Jeff, and the ball his his face. 

“Ah-shit!” He yelled, sitting up. “Who the fuck- come in!”

The door opened, and and a nervous Ben stepped in. He saw the baseball lying on the ground, and Jeff rubbing his head.

“...Sorry Jeff,” Ben mumbled. 

“Whatever,” Jeff said, “ whaddya want?”

Ben came farther into the room, closing the door behind him. He stood straighter, and Jeff noticed he had a stack of papers.

“Oh god,” Jeff said dramatically, “ are you gonna give me a whole ass presentation? Did you type out a speech?”

“I, what-no!” Ben stuttered out, “listen, just, listen to me ok? I hate asking this but I...Just shut up for a minute.” He seemed incredibly nervous, and for once in Jeff's life, he tried to listen.

“So. I’ve been doing research for the past couple of days.” He paused. “ I know what happened to you. And that...you go to the cemetery once a month. For your parents.” Jeff’s eyes narrowed. “So what, you gonna fucking blackmail me or something, you piece of shit?”

Ben’s eyes flashed with anger. “Maybe if you keep interrupting me I will!” Jeff took out a box of cigarettes and a lighter. He took a cigarette out of its box, placing in his mouth and lighting it, not looking at Ben.

“Go on.” He said finally.

Ben watched him warily, continuing. “Basically, I’ve been researching my past, too. Don’t remember anything except how I died, really. And uhh..” He trailed off, biting his lower lip. “Can you take me to my dad’s grave?” He asked finally.

Jeff’s eyes widened,sucking in a breath, momentarily forgetting the cigarette in his mouth and letting out a stream of coughing. He looked back at Ben as he choked. “Your dad? You- you want me to- I mean. Why?” He coughed out.

Ben looked down. “I don’t know. He was a piece of shit, I remember that, but...I don’t know. Closure, I guess.” A pause, then Ben mumbled quietly, “I don’t want to go alone.” Jeff found he couldn’t argue with that last sentence, and sighed, rubbing his head. “Fine kid. But you better not start crying or some crap. I need to visit my parents anyway. Are the cemeteries close?”

Ben’s face lit up, and he nodded, pulling out on of the papers he had. “Yeah, actually, just a few miles away from each other.”

Jeff nodded, putting out his cigarette and grabbing his jacket. “‘Alright then.” He said, pushing past Ben, and opening the door. Ben looked at him in surprise. “We’re leaving now?!” he said. Jeff was already walking down the hallway, and jangled his keys in response.

The car sped down the long country road, jolting slightly when it ran over uneven patches of ground. Ben sat in the passenger seat, looking out the windshield with a nervous expression, gripping the seat tighter every time the car bounced. He glanced at Jeff.  
“Where did you learn how to drive?”  
“I dunno. Self-taught,” Jeff responded mildly. Ben sat up straighter, his knuckles white from gripping the seat.  
“You never got your license?” He squeaked.   
“Well in between the murder and the violence it didn’t seem that prevalent.” He glanced sideways at Ben, who had scrunched up slightly in his seat. “Why are you even worried about it? Not like you can die twice.”  
Ben glared at him, but didn’t respond. After a second, he relaxed slightly. “There’s a flower shop a few miles away.” He mentioned softly. Jeff stayed quiet, his expression unreadable.A few minutes of silence passed in the car. Ben stared out the window, watching trees fly past, twisting his fingers in his lap. He had brought the stack of papers with him, and left them in back seats, where they were now spread all over the floor of the car due to Jeff’s poor driving skills.  
Ben bit his lip, before asking, “Why do you visit your parents?” He looked over at Jeff, trying to judge the killer’s reaction. Jeff’s expression didn’t change however, and after a moment he responded.   
“None of your business.”  
“Why can’t you just tell me? I told you why I wanted to see my dad.”  
“So?” Jeff said, his voice gruff. He glanced at Ben, his eyes stony. “ I don’t owe you answers.”

“Is it because you regret killing them?” Ben blurted out, curiosity overtaking him. There was a split second pause before the car slammed to a stop, and Ben lurched forward, before the seat belt whipped him backwards. He turned towards Jeff, gasping.

“What the fuck!” He shouted. Jeff glared at the steering wheel, gritting his teeth. 

“Stop asking me that shit! No! I don’t regret it.” He looked up at Ben, his amber eyes blazing with anger. “Listen, I don’t like talking about my past,ok? If i’m going to do this with you, you can’t keep pestering me like that.” Jeff worked his jaw for a second, then said, “you don’t ask me questions about my past, I don’t ask you questions about your past. Deal?”

Ben slowly nodded, holding out his hand. “Fine. But drive slower.” Jeff shook his hand. “Cool,” he responded, his eyes staring at the ground.

The rest of the drive was mostly silent, Ben cautiously eyeing Jeff the entire time. At one point Jeff flicked on his turn signal, going down a fork in the road. Ben nearly opened his mouth to ask where they were going, but decided otherwise. He looked to the back of the car, leaning over and shuffling papers around until he found the map he had printed out. He felt the car turn again and roll to a stop, and looked up.

Flower Emporium read the sign at the top of the shop. Jeff turned the car off and pulled out the keys, getting out of the car. 

“What?” he said defensively when he noticed Ben staring at the shop. “I thought you wanted flowers.”

Ben quickly moved out of the car, following Jeff. 

“Yeah, yeah, but hold on, won’t they-?” Ben cut himself off as Jeff handed him a pair of sunglasses. 

“Put that on, so they won’t notice your eyes.” Jeff responded, taking a bandanna out of his pocket and tying it around his mouth. Ben did as he was told, slipping the sunglasses on his face. A bell dinged when they entered the small shop, and a employee sitting at the counter looked up from her magazine. 

“Welcome!” She said, seemingly surprised to have customers. Her shock turned into a confused expression, seeing the bandanna on Jeff’s face,and sunglasses on Ben. “Ah...how can I help you?” She continued meekly. 

_She probably thinks we’re trying to rob her_ , Ben thought, glancing at Jeff, whose expression was stoic. But it’s better to think we’re robbers than murderous psychopaths.

Jeff pointed towards a bouquet of yellow and purple flowers. “How much?” he asked. The employee seemed to be a mixture of confusion and relief. 

“Oh! Daffodils and Chrysanthemum! That’s a nice pick, where are you heading?"

“None of your business,” Jeff responded automatically. 

“Graveyard.” Ben said, looking at the employee’s expression.

“Oh…” She mumbled. “Sorry for your loss.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s a tragedy. How much?” Jeff asked again, taking out his wallet.

The employee was stunned.“Don’t you want something a little more fitting?”

Jeff paused. “Fitting?”

She perked up, picking up a bouquet of small white flowers. “Yeah, people typically bring lilies to a loved one’s grave. White stargazer lilies are good too, they symbolize sympathy.” She plucked a few dried out petals from it. “It’s your choice though, I’m just giving you options.” 

Ben realized that Jeff and the employee were staring at him expectantly. His head swiveled between the two bouquets. How was he supposed to know which one to choose? “Uh…” He trailed off, and Jeff sighed, muttering something under his breath.

“We’ll take both, might as well. Visiting a couple people today anyway.” He pulled out two $20 dollar bills and handed it to her, and Ben grabbed the two bouquets. As they went back to the car, he murmured out a soft, “Thanks Jeff.” Jeff grunted in response, shrugging and pulling his keys from his pocket.

After another 10 minutes of driving, they finally made it to the cemetery. They parked inside the gates, and Jeff and Ben stood in the path, Jeff pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

“So,” he began, blowing out smoke, “Where should we start?”

The cemetery was medium-sized, a good amount of graves lining the grass. Ben scanned the graves, analyzing it. “I guess we should split up, but stay close in case we find it- in case we find him,” Ben corrected himself. His shoulders were hunched, and he looked nervous. He was still holding his stack of papers, a bouquet in his other hand. Jeff had the other one.

“What name am I looking for?” Jeff asked blankly. Ben took a shuddering breath.

“Lawman.”

The two set off, walking through the rows of graves and studying each one, Jeff strolled through, glancing at the graves as he passed them. Ben walked slow at first, before speeding up, and then slowing down again, completely unsure of himself. He doubled back often, checking the grave’s names over again. Finally, Ben heard Jeff’s voice.

“Ben.”

Ben looked over at the killer. Jeff lifted his head up at Ben, then back at the grave in front of him. Ben’s breath caught in his throat, and he slowly made his way over. Jeff’s hands were shoved in his pockets, his cigarette dangling loosely from his mouth.

“This it?” He asked. Ben looked at it. 

\------ Lawman  
19XX - 2002  
Beloved Brother  
Friend of Many  
Loving Father

Ben stared at the last words.  
Loving father.  
Loving father.  
Something inside of Ben snapped, and he dove towards the grave, screaming at it. Electricity flowed through him, his arms surrounded in crackling lightning. The bolts shot out and hit the grave, to no avail, and it made Ben furious. He felt arms grab him and pull him back. He snarled, his arms still trying to make a grab for the stone, to break it apart, to destroy every memory of his loving father’s existence. He was still screaming at it.  
“Y̝O̫̭U ̘P̦͚I͙̱̫̯E͖̜̞C̤̖͚̝͎̖̦E͕ ̦̗̣̲O͍F S̜͍̗͖̖H̹͔ỊT̟̯̱̯͍̖̙!̦͚͈̻͓̜̹ ̖̘̜̪Y̫O̙̭̥̭̱U̘͉ ̹͖͔͓̠̖D͎̥̳͉̳ON̳̮͈'̦̠̖̭T͔̩̫̜̜͖ ͉̻̗̭̹͕̤D̼͇͍E̠̱̬͎̺̫S͔̗E̲̭͔̱RVE ̻̟ͅȚ̰̻̼̺̜̼O̲̼̳̼ͅ ̦̥͎̟BE̖ ̖̥̞̜̥̞C̮̫̭̩͇͎AL̤̹L̹̥̥̯̯E̩̤̬̱̗D͍̰̩͙̩̝̮ ̙TH̳͇̗̹̫AT̝̯̼̭̭ ͕͚̭ͅͅY̮͚̥̙O̙̥̺̹͓̳̣U̻͎̹̯̱ D̘̦̹̫͔̹O͓̗̱̼͓N'̞̫͖̻T͙͕̮̻͖ ̼̙͔̩̠̻D̼͚̣ES̤̠̠̙̹E̥͈̯̘̬͚R̙͔V͙̳͙͇͈͕̠E A ̠̻̺̲̜͓G͔̪͔̗ͅṚA̻͕̥͔ͅVE̥,͎͔͉̖͚ͅ ̼̹̹̞Y̟̳͈O̗U͍ ̤̥̘̜D̞̪̖͚̘̙̻O̲̻N̲̬͓̭̖'̫̲̙T̺͔͍ D̮̻̩̱̙ͅE͍̱S͇̪̜͚̫̞̥E̘͖̯͚̪R͇̘̮̩͕̥̲V͕͈͙̱͎E̺ ͇̙̦̥̗A̫͔͉̰̹͖ ̥̭̼͇̤͕K̳̗͚̣͕̯ͅI̺̟̯̰Ṋ͖D̞̯ ͍͕D͙̥͎̼̙̗̜E͚̗̼̣͈̭A̬̳̘̥̘̝̱T͈͓̭ͅH̱ ̙̠̖̖I̫͈̬̗̞̲̦ ̠̝WI̱̖͕̖̘S̜̫̘H̳ ̱̠I͇ ̺͇̠͔̫K̤͍IL͚̟͔͔L͙͇̮E̞͚D̥̟̼̗ ͖Y͖O̟͎̖͉U̠ ͚I̬̥̠̘̙ͅ ̺W̯̮I̝̜͉͇̜S͓̯̮H̻ ̪̫͇͖̻̟I̗̻̳̟̰ ̩̳̗̤͙̺͕WA̩S ̜Ṋ̮͕̣͉̯E͓͉V̳̲̱͔̖E̝̙̦͕̼̣R͖͓̞ ͖̯̘̹̥B̟̣͓͓O̝̻̰̩͈R̞̙N-””

“BEN!” Jeff finally shouted, throwing the ghost to the ground. Ben let out a grunt at he hit the grass, finally snapping out of it. He took a few gulping, shaky breaths, tears rolling down his face, the fading electricity causing them to sizzle slightly. He dared to look at the gravestone again. There were slight chips in the stone, a crushed bouquet of flowers in front of it. Papers were littered around the grave, the edges of a few of them were burnt. He slowly looked up at Jeff.  
The killer didn’t say anything, his shoulders rising and falling heavily as he caught his breath. Ben noticed Jeff’s arms were shaking slightly, pieces of the hoodie burnt.   
“Jeff, I- I’m sorry I didn’t mean to shock you-”  
Jeff waved Ben’s apologies away. “ ‘s fine. Barely felt it.” He looked at Ben, not making eye contact, and then looked at the grave.  
“Have something against granite?” He joked, eyeing the chipped pieces of stone. Ben sat up, plucking a few pieces of grass from the ground miserably.   
“Something like that.” He muttered, his face morphing into a sad scowl. “I don’t know why I even bothered to come here.I don’t know what I was expecting. Like somehow now that he was dead everything he did to me wouldn’t feel so bad.”  
Jeff sat down in the grass as well, cross-legged. “And?” He asked.  
Ben scoffed, not answering. He tied the blade of grass into a knot, thinking. Jeff let him, leaning back at staring at the sky. Ben finally spoke, his voice cracking.  
“No one ever figured out he murdered me.” His face seemed to break, and Jeff eyed him carefully as Ben continued.  
“Loving father… Yeah right. He was an abusive piece of shit. Just because he didn’t beat me doesn’t mean he didn’t hurt me. I read all the articles I could about him, after I died. The police suspected him, they never found enough evidence to convict him of anything… It was so shitty. All of it was just so fucked up.” Ben finished, and his face crumpled up. He looked down at the grass, embarrassed he was telling all of this to Jeff. What happened to that deal they made earlier? Jeff doesn’t want to hear your fucking sob story, Ben thought to himself, wiping away the last of his tears.

“Anyway,” Ben said, wanting to move past this, “Uhm. We should get going now.” Jeff nodded, picking up both of the bouquets.

“I’m guessing you don’t want to give these to him anymore,” Jeff said. “I’ll give ‘em to my parents.”

In the car, Jeff asked, “You still wanna do this?”

“What?” Ben asked. “They’re your parents, not mine Jeff.” Jeff shrugged in response. 

“I can do this whenever.”

Ben’s expression hardened. “You saw my dad, I get to see yours.” Jeff grunted in response, putting the key in the ignition and turning it, the car roaring to life.

At the cemetery, Jeff’s fingers twitched, Ben couldn’t tell if it was for his knife or his cigarettes.

“I, uh. I don’t usually do this with other people,” Jeff said stiffly. Ben didn’t respond, and Jeff shoved his hands in his pockets, stalking forward. Ben floated after him. Jeff knew exactly where he was going, and after about a minute he stopped a few feet away from a pair of gravestones. 

Jeff coughed. “Hey Mom, Dad. I brought a friend this time, hope you don’t mind.” He gestured to Ben, who waved. 

“Hi?” He said to the graves. Jeff gave a short nod, as if agreeing to this response, and continued talking to the stones as if they were people. He sat down, and Ben joined him after a moment's hesitation.

“I brought you flowers- for both of you this time- you can thank Ben for that.” Jeff said, motioning for Ben to hand over the bouquets. Ben was relieved that Jeff didn’t mention the earlier incident. _Wait, why am I worried about him telling that? His parents are dead, they can’t even tell anybody_ , Ben thought to himself, shaking his head and focusing on Jeff, who was still having a one-sided conversation with the gravestones.

“- Glad to get out of that dusty old mansion for once, sheesh. I got a new bandanna too, red. Don’t ask where I got the money from, though, you wouldn’t like the answer, heh.” Jeff leaned back, pausing. The sound of birds twittering filled the air, and the soft breeze felt nice against Ben’s skin. They sat there for a while, Jeff absentmindedly talking about the past month, being more open than Ben had ever seen him. Jeff did tend to exclude the amount of murdering he did, though.

Eventually, Jeff and Ben headed back to the car, Jeff finally taking this opportunity to light a cigarette. “Ben,” He said. The ghost looked up at him. 

“Yeah?” He mumbled. 

“I don’t regret killing my parents.” He took a drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke blow through the slits in his mouth. “I do a lot of shitty things. I’m an asshole, I can’t drive a car- I kill people, for fucks sake. But I don’t regret a single thing I've ever done,” Jeff continued, jabbing the air with his cigarette to emphasize his point. “I can’t regret any of it. Cause if I do, I’ll get stuck. Stuck thinking about what could have been. What I shoulda done, what others shoulda done. Soon enough I’m stuck in bed all day, wanting something I’ll never have.”

They got to the car, and Jeff stopped, flicking ash of his cigarette. “That’s why I don’t talk about my past. I visit my parents because they’re my parents, y’know? They weren’t bad to me.” He cast a side eye at Ben, who opened the car and got in. Jeff followed, crushing his cigarette under his shoe. He put his hands on the steering wheel, then paused.

“Permission to ask about past?” Jeff asked. Ben glanced at him with a guarded expression.

“Go for it.”

“Your mom.”

“What about her?” Ben responded.

“You didn’t bother going to her grave.”

“That’s cause she’s not dead yet,” Ben responded quietly. “At least, that’s what I think. She uh...left. When I was younger. Sometimes I wish she took me with her, but...Didn’t really know her. Maybe she was worse. I don’t know.” The last part was a whisper, and Ben stared ahead, his face hollow. For once, he didn’t look like a 12 year old kid. He looked like a ghost, something inhuman and old and tired.

“Sometimes it feels like the past is all I am.” Ben finished. Silence permeated the air, the both of them thinking. Finally Jeff put the keys in the ignition.

“That’s the cool thing about the future, Benny boy,” Jeff said,“It becomes the past. Forget about your shitty life, Ben. You’re dead now.”

Ben stared out the window the rest of the time, his mind slowly processing Jeff’s words. He could never live like Jeff could. To Ben, his past was like building blocks, the foundation for everything else. But, Ben mused to himself, that didn’t mean he couldn’t stop building. 

Maybe becoming a ghost had been a blessing rather than a curse. A second chance. A small smile slipped onto Ben’s face. “Thanks for coming with, Jeff,” He said.

“Whatever,” Jeff grunted back. “Do you have money for cigarettes on you?”


End file.
